


Retirement

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: The Only One I Ever Trusted [9]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, Future Fic, Humor, M/M, everyone is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-09 00:10:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6881299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do villains-turned-anti-heroes do when they finally decide to retire? (Future fic)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retirement

**Author's Note:**

> Needless to say, this is set in a universe where a certain event from "Legends" 1x15 never, ever, EVER happened.

If you wanted the best barbeque in Central City, you had to make your way to a dilapidated-looking building on the outskirts of the city without any kind of sign on the outside. Inside, the name of the place - Hot and Cold - was spelled out in neon above the bar, which was stocked with a far wider variety of bottles than the dive bar atmosphere would suggest. Eight rickety-looking tables were crammed into the available floor space, since the majority of the building's square footage was taken up by the pit and grill room in the back.

The meat options were whatever the pit master felt like cooking. The employees were all ex cons, but if you pissed him off there was nothing scarier than the white-haired guy who ran the front half of the joint. The only thing that came close was when you screwed up enough to make the pit master come out. If you did something that got _both_ their attention, not even God could help you.

The establishment's small collection of regulars knew it was one of the safest places to eat in the entire city. The hipsters came because of the _insane_ online reviews – if Len ever found out who started that, there would be some beatings – and only fell for it harder no matter how many times they were insulted, kicked out, charged triple, or drove miles only to find the place randomly closed for the day. Apparently, all of that only made the experience more _authentic_.

Mick, damn him, thought it was funny.

000

Len shucked off his jacket the moment he stepped into the pit room, leaving his t-shirt clad arms bare as he dropped it on a stool by the door. He'd put the jacket back on the moment customers showed up, but it was too hot back here for the extra clothing. Besides, Mick already knew exactly where all his scars were.

His partner didn't look up from the fire he was building in the steel box pit, his expression one of concentration rather than the euphoria that had been there in the bad old days. He'd decided to start a beard again, the hair steel gray rather than Len's own white, the sleeveless undershirt and fireman's suspenders he was wearing setting off the muscles that still looked damn good for a man about to hit 60. Len let his gaze linger over them, savoring the tactile memory of the scarred skin under his hands just that morning. "You call that a flame?" he called out.

"Hah." Mick's lips curved upward, even though he still didn't look up. "How'd Cat's first bail-out go?"

"Bail out requires an actual arrest. It turns out she didn't do anything that was _technically_ illegal, so she was just brought in as a scare tactic." His 13-year-old niece had inherited both her father's technical skills and her mother's mischievousness, which meant that her definition of a 'prank' was somewhat more dramatic than other people's. "Cisco's out of town, and she didn't want to call Lisa because she was afraid she'd get a critique of her exit strategy."

Mick looked up at that, raising an eyebrow. " _You_ didn't give her a critique?"

Len shrugged, letting his amusement out onto his face. "Of course I did. But she knows I'm prejudiced."

"Not to mention the fact that you're the one who taught her _mother_ everything she knows, so it's the better critique." Clearly still amused himself, Mick returned his attention back to the fire. "Tell her she can borrow the heat gun when she _doesn't_ draw the attention of the police."

"I did." Both of their guns unfortunately spent most of their time in storage these days, mostly because they made it too easy for baby criminals to identify them both. If there was anything _more_ annoying than hipsters, it was snot-nosed wannabe supervillains looking for advice or something to prove. "Joe Jr. still wants to spend the summer helping you back here, though. You can see his grandfather trying very hard not to have an aneurysm every time he mentions it."

Mick gave an artificially dramatic sigh. "I'm about to take the Flash's kid, and the police chief's grandson, as an apprentice. This is all your fault, you know."

"Hey, I'm not the one who saved all the pictures Joe Jr. ever drew him. You know you have as big a soft spot for him and his sister as I do."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Checking the state of the wood on the last fire, Mick shut the door and went to examine the meat he had smoking. "I'm a hardened ex con who broke someone's hand yesterday because he was getting fresh with the new girl."

"Isabella," Len supplied, making a mental note to double check that the kid really did have someplace decent to sleep at night. If not, he'd made sure to grab a sizeable financial donation off the customer in question's credit card that would solve the problem. "And you know as well as I do that not a single person would be terrified of you if they knew you've somehow managed to avoid killing Ray all these years."

"He's already asking what he should bring for Thanksgiving, by the way." He glanced over at Len again. "Speaking of people I've somehow managed to restrain myself from killing, any chance of you coming over here and doing some actual work?"

"You know I've always preferred to do my work without the heavy lifting." Juggling a business, it turned out, simply required a much subtler form of lying, cheating and stealing. He smirked. "Besides, I can enjoy the show better from here."

Mick smirked back. "Good show?"

Len let his expression soften. "Still the best one I've ever seen."

Before either of them could say anything else dangerously sentimental, Len felt his phone buzz. Pulling it out, he saw a new e-mail from Sara. Apparently, she and Nyssa were back in civilization again for a few minutes. He checked the message, lips curving in interest. "Sara wants to know if we'd be interested in helping them take out a human trafficking ring. Says she thinks the four of us could wrap it up in about a week."

Mick paused, considering it. "We have talked about a vacation."

Letting his smile widen, Len quickly typed out their response. "That we have."

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my new original fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


End file.
